


Sleepwalker Linhardt

by Nquvox



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21569890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nquvox/pseuds/Nquvox
Summary: Linhardt likes to sleep, and whenever he falls asleep in the library at night, he somehow finds himself in his room the next morning.He's sleepwalking....right?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	Sleepwalker Linhardt

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING** Mild spoilers for Crimson Flower route. This story takes place between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. **WARNING**
> 
> I originally posted this on FF.net, but I revised some mistakes I missed, and tried to make some of the sentences flow better. That being said, I probably missed some stuff. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Linhardt was in the clouds. Literally.

He was snuggling in a cumulonimbus. How he got there and why he was there he didn’t care. As a child he would often look up and see the towering cloud, and often wondered if it was as soft and fluffy as it appeared.

It was, he decided. It was indeed soft and fluffy.

The cloud not only sustained his weight, but conformed around his body, and no matter what position he laid in, the cloud quickly adjusted.

"Is this heaven?" Linhardt asked himself.

"Hello!" A voice called out to him. Linhardt looked at the direction the voice was coming from. An old, bearded man floated towards Linhardt and stopped in front of him, a beaming smile on his face.

"Hello. Who are you?" _And why are you interrupting my nap?_ _He wanted to ask._

"My name is Maxwell Theodorus."

Linhardt balked. "Maxwell Theodorus!? The professor that created the crest hierarchy? You are that Maxwell?"

"The one and only."

"What a stroke of luck, meeting you here on this cumulonimbus. I simply must ask you some questions that I've been dying to ask." Linhardt felt an odd pressure on his right arm. He ignored it.

"Why of course. I would be honored to answer questions from such a brilliant mind such as yourself."

He felt the pressure on his right arm again. "You know of me?"

**linhardt.** A far off voice said. It sounded like it was calling his name, but he had more pressing matters to pay attention to.

"You are Linhardt von Hevring, are you not? A genius student, one who will surely one day surpass even me in crest knowledge."

**Linhardt.** The distant voice said, louder this time. He could feel the pressure on his arm consistently now. "You honor me, sir. Now, could I ask why you used an eight-star circuit configuration? Wouldn't a six-star configuration accomplish the same?"

**Linhardt. Please wake.** That damn voice wouldn't shut up, and it felt like his arm was being shaken. Was he having a heart attack? Was it altitude sickness?

"I will not."

"B-but why!?"

**Linhardt. Wake up, please. Wake up.**

"Because this is a dream, and you need to wake up."

"NOOO!!!" Linhardt shouted, as gravity took hold and he plummeted towards the ground. The professor and his cumulonimbus bed vanishing before him.

* * *

And so, Linhardt awoke.

As Linhardt stirred, he realized he wasn't lying on a cloud, he wasn't even lying down at all. Instead, he was sitting on a bench, his arms acting as a pillow for his head on the desk in front of him.

"Linhardt. Linhardt. You must wake." The mysterious voice that woke him said. Linhardt slowly opened his eyes to view the person calling his name.. It was Petra, sitting beside him. She had a concerned, yet nervous look in her eyes.

"Wha…?" Linhardt was still in the process of waking up.

Upon seeing Linhardt finally start to wake, the nervousness in Petra's eyes grew. "Perhaps not time to sleep." She stated in broken Fodlan.

_There is never a time *not* to sleep. He wanted to reply._

But upon seeing the concern and nervousness from her face, he slowly started to realize, even in his groggy state of mind, that something was amiss. Reluctantly removing his head from his arm-made pillow, he surveyed his surroundings.

He was in the Black Eagles classroom. He must have fallen asleep in the room at some point. However, he was not alone with Petra. There were others in the room, his fellow Black Eagle classmates, all strangely silent. As his eyes slowly focused, he studied the two students sitting at the next desk over.

The first student was the Black Eagles class leader, Edelgard. She was not looking at him. Instead, she was facing forward, leaning on the desk. Both her hands were covering her face in either exasperation or shame. Perhaps both.

The other student sitting next to Edelgard was, of course, her loyal aide Hubert. Hubert was not looking away. Instead, he was turned around, staring directly at Linhardt.

Upon seeing Hubert's face, Linhardt then realized that something was wrong, *very* wrong.

Hubert was grinning. No, this wasn't his usual smirk. This was a smile, with actual teeth showing. Linhardt has *never* seen Hubert's teeth used in conjunction with a smile. The seldom times he did see his teeth, it was usually in a sneer.

And Hubert's eyes. His eyes looked like a person watching someone face the guillotine. For most this would be horrific, but in Hubert's case, it was entertainment.

Linhardt looked at Petra again. She was alternating nervous glances at him, and something to his left. As Linhardt slowly turned his head to that direction, his peripheral vision caught the desk at the front left of the classroom, where Caspar and Dorothea sat.

Caspar was looking at Linhardt, and he could see a nervous yet relieved look on his face as if whatever was wrong, he was grateful it wasn't directed at him.

Dorothea hands covered her mouth, in an attempt to stifle herself from laughing.

As he finally turned his head to the left, he found his eyes could see no further. Instead, he realized a body was standing towards his left. It was so close he had to look upwards to see the face.

It was the mercenary, staring down at him. The mercenary's face wasn't focused entirely on him, instead, it was only slightly angled down. But his eyes were. His eyes were entirely focused on Linhardt. Due to this fact, it appeared as if he was glaring at him, much like how a noble looks down on his servants.

And with Byleth's expressionless, lifeless face, most people would be terrified.

"Linhardt." Professor Byleth said.

But Linhardt wasn't like most people.

"Ahh...yes, hello teacher. Can I help you?" Linhardt said sleepily.

"You are sleeping. Again."

"Yes, very astute, teacher."

"Sleep before or after class, not during, Linhardt."

"Yes well," Linhardt yawned. "I was so caught up in a book last night, I lost track of time."

"That is no excuse. From now on, remain awake during studies, or else…"

"E-eeeek!" Bernadetta squeaked from the back of the classroom. Things were getting too tense for her.

"Or else…?" Linhardt challenged.

"By the goddess Linhardt!" Caspar whispered as if urging him to stop.

"Silence. Let the man dig his grave." Hubert said, his smile growing wider. Edelgard groaned.

"Or else I will make you stay awake," Byleth answered.

Linhardt studied Byleth. The mercenary was like a statue. His eyes didn't waver or blink, just staring.

Linhardt frowned then sighed.

"Alright, teacher...I'll try my best. No need to get so serious about it…" He yawned again while stretching his arms.

Byleth stared at him a few more moments, then nodded and started towards the front of the class. "Moving on. The flying attack formation Tri-Attack. It was often considered-" Linhardt drowned out his teacher's voice.

_My cumulonimbus bed…_

* * *

The following week would be torture for Linhardt.

" _And the reward for discovering how crests are created is ...!"_

_"Me, of course." thought Dream Linhardt._

"Linhardt."

His forehead snapped back from getting hit with a stick of chalk. Impeccable aim.

* * *

" _Imagine, winning the raffle for a deluxe bed. What are the odds?" smiled Dream Linhardt as they moved his new bed in._

"Linhardt."

His head snapped back from getting hit with a teacher's pointing stick. He didn't even know that could be thrown.

* * *

" _Due to the harsh winter, classes have been canceled this entire week." Dream Seteth announced to the students. "You are only permitted to visit the library, but we encourage you to stay in your room and sleep. Do nothing but sle-"_

"Linhardt."

His face hit the desk as the book hit him dead center. What amazing trajectory.

* * *

" _The crest-"_

"Linhardt"

His body fell to the ground as a miniature globe barreled into him. Those have more weight than he thought.

* * *

" _There is a way," Dream Linhardt announced to the assembly. "To activate crests in such a way that-"_

"Linhardt."

His head became drenched as a water spell covered him. No, that wasn't a spell, that was tea.

* * *

" **I've had enough!** " Linhardt shouted in the mess hall, slamming his fists on the table.

Caspar jumped in the seat across from him.

"Geez settle down, what's got you all upset?"

"It's that mercenary! He is ruining my sleep!" Caspar could see Linhardt gnashing his teeth in frustration.

"Mercenary?" Ferdinand asked, seated to Caspar's right. "Do you mean our dear Professor?"

"' **Professor**.'" Linhardt frowned. "Since when does a mercenary just magically earn the title of Professor?"

He was not worried if their conversation was overheard. They were in the mess hall. The place was packed with students as it was currently the scheduled lunchtime for all the houses, so the noise in the room was almost deafening.

"Does it matter?" Caspar said, talking with his mouth full. "His classes are plenty interesting."

"Of course you would find it interesting. All he talks about is how to fight."

"That's not true," Ferdinand said. "I quite enjoy our class discussions. His arguments against Maxwell's theories on crests were quite enlightening."

Linhardt frowned. He didn’t remember that. "When did he talk about that?"

"Oh gee, I dunno, maybe during one of your constant naps?" Caspar smirked. Linhardt decided to ignore telling Caspar he had mustard on his cheek.

"Why not just stay awake?" Ferdinand asked. "That would solve all your problems, would it not?"

Linhardt shook his head. "No. Impossible. I need to get enough sleep if I am to study in the library at night."

"Then stop studying in the library at night!" Caspar exclaimed.

"Absolutely not. That is the only time when it is actually quiet. And I enjoy it far more immensely than the mercenary’s lectures."

"You know they don't allow you to stay overnight in the library, right?" Caspar asked.

"Not to worry." Linhardt smiled. "Whenever I fall asleep from studying late at night, I find myself back in my bed the next morning. It appears I sleepwalk back to my room each night. Quite interesting, no?"

Ferdinand's and Caspar's eyes widened.

_What an odd reaction_.

"Oh my," Ferdinand said, embarrassment showing on his face.

"W-wow, really?" Caspar stuttered. "That's uh...wow yea-"

" **He doesn't know, does he?"** A voice soaking with sarcasm interrupted.

They looked at the edge of the table. The voice belonged to Hubert, smirking at them with a tray of food..

"Know what?" Linhardt asked, now utterly confused.

"Shh! If he doesn't know, don't tell him!" Caspar said to Hubert, despite Linhardt being right in front of him.

"Know what?" Linhardt repeated.

"Oh, this is just delightful," Hubert said as he took a seat at their table.

"You're sitting here, with us, Hubert?" Ferdinand asked in shock. "You never sit with us."

Caspar frowned. "Yeah, there's plenty of open tables, go sit over there. You always smile at me creepy when I eat, like you put poison in my food or something."

"Denied," Hubert stated. "Lady Edelgard will be joining us once she dishes up. She wishes to discuss something with the...notorious sleeper in our classroom.

Linhardt groaned. This week couldn't get any worse. First getting hit by thrown objects from his teacher, now a lecture from his class leader.

Regardless, he was still curious about Ferdinand's and Caspar's earlier reactions.

"Explain to me what is so odd about me sleepwalking. And what should I not know?" Linhardt asked irritatingly. He hated not knowing something.

"We cannot," Ferdinand stated. "It is unbecoming of a noble to expose something so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? Sleepwalking may not be a healthy habit. But if it ensures I always get back to my room, then I see nothing wrong with it."

"Sleepwalking?” Hubert chuckled. “Is that what you think it is? That's adorable." Linhardt was never one for violence, but at that moment he wanted to punch Hubert.

"Stop it, Hubert..." Caspar groaned.

"What is this about sleepwalking?" Edelgard asked as she approached their table.

Hubert coughed "Ah, my lady...it is nothing of importance. Apparently, Linhardt has been studying in the library late at night, and when he falls asleep, he sleepwalks back to his room."

"You what, Linhardt?" Edelgard frowned as she took a seat. "Are you not worried about the stares you receive as you stumble back to your room?"

"Oh yes, he receives stares," Ferdinand smirked. Caspar elbowed him in the gut. "Oof!".

_What are these three keeping from me? And why do they not want Edelgard to know as well?"_

Linhardt sighed. The mystery will have to wait. But he *will* solve it. "You wished to speak to me, class leader?"

"I think you already know what I want to speak about, Linhardt. It's your behavior during class."

"I was unaware sleeping was a behavior."

Edelgard sighed. "Why must you hassle our teacher so much? Is it really so hard to pay attention during class?"

"It is. The mercenary's teachings are boring and dull. Who wouldn't fall asleep?"

"Mercenary!?" Edelgard gasped, her eyes wide. "He may have that as an occupation, but here in Garreg Mach I expect you to call him his assigned title. Professor."

"You say that, Edelgard, but you always call him teacher. Is that not contradictory?"

"Nahhh, she says it differently." Caspar grinned. "She always says 'my’ teacher. Like, she always goes 'Oh, hello 'my' teacher.' 'A pleasant day 'my' teacher.'" The mustard was still on Caspar’s cheek.

"She does, doesn't she?" Ferdinand realized. "She puts such a strong emphasis on the 'my'. Very well! I, Ferdinand von Aegir, shall do the same!"

"T-that is neither here nor there!" Edelgard stammered. "We are discussing Linhardt and his unprofessional attitude towards my-... our teacher."

"Haha, oh man!" Caspar cackled. "You see what I-"

"Do you truly wish for me to put poison in your food?" Hubert asked innocently.

Caspar sweated. "Yeah Linhardt, you should treat teach some respect!"

"Then maybe he should treat *me* with some respect." Linhardt countered. "He keeps calling me by my first name, if he was such an esteemed professor, he should at least call me by last name."

The table was silent.

"Oh my." Ferdinand said.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Edelgard said.

Linhardt wanted to tear his hair out. All he wants to do is sleep and read, but it's one thing after another. " **What!?** What don't I know!?"

Hubert frowned. "And here I thought you were an intellectual. A snob, but an intellectual. It pities me that you could not see something so obvious."

Caspar looked sheepish. "Geesh, even I knew about it…"

Linhardt grumbled. "Then please, may you provide illumination to this poor, misguided soul. What is it that I don't know?"

"If 'my' teacher calls you by your first name, it's because...well…" Ferdinand hesitated.

"You either really pissed him off or you did something stupid." Caspar finished.

"I wouldn't use such quite strong words but...yes. You messed up." Ferdinand took a sip of his tea.

"Are you saying he calls me by my first name whenever he thinks I performed inadequately?"

The three residents nodded. Hubert just smirked.

"But he calls Caspar by his first name all the time."

"Hey!" Caspar protested.

"And how often does Caspar get into trouble, or causes mischief?" Edelgard asked.

Linhardt started counting. 1...5...18…

"Ah."

"Yes. Ah indeed." Edelgard nodded.

"W-whatever…" Caspar grumbled.

"I will have you know," Ferdinand boasted. "Not once has 'my' teacher called me by my first name. It just shows how highly my teacher regards me."

"Please come down from your high horse." Hubert frowned. "He has not called my lady by her first name as well."

"Y-yes, he hasn't…" Edelgard frowned. To Linhardt, it almost seemed like she was disappointed about that.

Linhardt shook his head. He glanced behind him to the teacher's table. He spotted Byleth eating his meal with Professor Hanneman and Professor Manuela. They were talking adamantly while Byleth gave the occasional nod.

"This conversation is pointless. I refuse to change my stance. If he hates it, that's too bad. I will continue staying up late in the library, and I will continue to sleep during class, teacher abuse or not. And I will never call him professor. I will be a gentleman and call him teacher, but never a professor."

"Ah, there's one more thing I forgot to tell you," Edelgard stated, taking a small sip of her tea.

"What now?" Linhardt sighed.

"The Professor would like you to join him for tea this afternoon."

"..."

Linhardt thought this week couldn’t get any worse, but somehow, it did.

* * *

"Mister Hevring, thank you for coming." Byleth nodded to Linhardt as he took a seat at the garden table.

They were in the garden. Several tables and chairs were placed around the beautifully maintained lawn. The students often used this area to conduct their favorite past time. Tea parties.

"It would be unbecoming of a noble to decline an invitation to tea, teacher."

Byleth's head tilted. His face, as always, emotionless. "I was under the impression you did not care much for noble duties."

Linhardt pursed his lips. The mercenary had already scored a point.

Byleth, as if sensing his hesitation, continued. "Chamomile? Hubert told me that was your favorite."

"It is actually angelica tea. I'm afraid Hubert tricked you." Linhardt hated chamomile, and he was slightly worried how Hubert found that out.

Byleth frowned. "I guess I should have known better. However, I have some angelica tea leaves with me. Please, help yourself to the pastries while I prepare a new brew."

Byleth lifted a box he had on the ground and opened it. Within the box, Linhardt could see dozens of tea leaves inside, perfectly categorized.

_Just how much tea does he have?_

He often thought the mercenary was a tea addict. He would pass the garden on the way to the library, and would often spot Byleth having tea either by himself or with another student.

"It is appreciated but I am not hungry. May I ask why you called me here?"

Byleth hesitated while preparing the tea. "It is about your conduct, this week."

"Are you running out of things to throw at me?"

Byleth frowned "It's been about two months since I've started teaching here."

"Has it been that long already?"

Byleth nodded. "And that is why I'm confused."

"Oh?"

"You weren't always sleeping through my courses. It has only been occurring these last three weeks. Before that, you would often stay awake. You would even take notes."

Linhardt didn't like where this was going.

"Did I? And why would that be, teacher?"

"You only started to ignore classes shortly after our mission to rout the bandits in Zanado Canyon."

"Rout, you say. Isn't that just an innocent way of saying 'kill'?"

Byleth tilted his head again. "Then let me rephrase. You only started to ignore classes shortly after our mission to kill the bandits."

Around three weeks ago, they had finished 'routing' the bandits that were holed up in Zanado Canyon. The mission was a resounding success, with no members of his class were being injured. But to most of the students, it was their first time spilling blood. To Linhardt, he entered the canyon an innocent, and came out a killer. He still can't get the person he killed out of his head, the way the person stared at him in shock. He doesn't think any of the students will.

"..." If Linhardt was going to reply, he didn't.

Byleth sighed. "Mister Hevring, speak freely. Nothing you say here will be held against you."

_Fine, I'll tell you._

"Very well, teacher, let me be frank. I question your teaching abilities if it involves students prancing around a canyon and murdering people."

"I see. In this case, it was a request from her Archbishop, and therefore, the church."

"So you have no qualms about putting students in danger? Having them kill people?"

"I do have qualms about it. However, while Garreg Mach is a monastery, it is also an officer's academy. Its main duty is to train you to to fight, and lead."

"Then train us to fight. Don't have us fight and kill. We're students."

"The Church of Seiros disagrees."

"Then they are wrong."

"...yes, perhaps they are."

Linhardt frowned. He wasn't expecting him to agree.

"And yet soon, teacher, you will…" Linhardt wanted him to finish.

"I will have you kill again. Soon. " Byleth admitted.

Linhardt tightened his grip on the hand rests. Just last week, they received this month's mission. To stop the rebellion of Lord Lonato. They would be joining with the church's knights on their way west.

"But this time it's different." Byleth continued. "This time, it involves people that aren't driven by greed, but by ideals. The only difference between them and you is your beliefs. So in that regard, you and the enemy are both innocent."

"But you will have us kill them, nonetheless."

"Yes. While it may not be full-out war, it is much the same."

"And you're fine with that? Sending students to kill and bleed?"

"I'm not."

"I don't believe you."

How could he? If Byleth truly didn't like it, then he should look sad...or...something. But instead, he was expressionless.

Byleth leaned back in his chair. "I understand. But even if you don't believe me, I still need you to listen to my lectures."

"Why? You know how smart I am. I am perfectly capable of learning by myself."

"Because I am trying to prepare you for the fight to come. For the fights in the future. What I teach you may save your life."

"I don't want to. I'll join your stupid fights, but I won't learn how to be a better killer. That's not why I study.

"Then you're fine with killing your fellow students?"

Linhardt let go of his grip on the hand rests. He felt pale. "What?"

Byleth leaned forward. "Let's think rationally. You're our healer. We depend on you in case of injuries. But I expect more than that. When you're on the battlefield, you can't just think of one thing, you have to take everything into account. The enemy's position, their numbers, if they're flanking, how much stamina they have. The same could be said for your allies. Is one too tired to continue fighting? Should your ally be approaching the enemy to the side? Is there a better way?"

"Isn't that your job, teacher?"

"It is. But why just me? Why can't I teach you all the same things? Wouldn't more pairs of eyes surveying the battlefield be better than one?"

"...yes."

"Then that's what I'm teaching. I'm doing everything I can for you all to survive, together. And yes, to do that, I need to teach you how to kill. It is horrible, but it is reality."

"It shouldn't be. It's stupid. It's worthless. It makes no sense."

"I agree. I'm sorry."

Silence.

Linhardt was looking down, his thoughts in a whirlwind. He didn't want to look up, but he knew Byleth was staring at him.

He suddenly felt nauseous.

"I need to go."

"The tea is almost finished."

"I need to go."

Without another word, Linhardt stood and started walking away. As he walked, he could feel Byleth's eyes staring at his back.

He wanted to run.

* * *

"Confounds it all." Linhardt's body wanted to do nothing but sleep, but the thoughts swirling in his head prevented that.

He was sitting against his favorite tree in Garreg Mach. It provided just enough shade and the ground was softened by well-maintained grass. But best of all, it was well secluded. Normally as soon as he sat down he would fall asleep, but today was different.

_There are too many variables. The last battle, the upcoming battle, the reaction towards sleepwalking...so many variables to solve._

Linhardt sighed. He wouldn't be able to nap at the moment. No, the best thing to do is to occupy his mind with something else. Something he enjoys.

The library.

To him, it was a second home, but for the last three weeks, it was also a place to run and hide. He would use the library to clog his memory with so much knowledge that he would forget all his troubles. He could run from it all when he studied. The memories of the battle, the death he caused, and the deaths he may still cause, all forgotten...at least temporarily.

_Yes. The library is just what I need._

But as soon as he stood up, a voice called out to him. He groaned immediately.

"Going to your precious library again, Linhardt?"

"What is it, Hubert? I thought you met your condescending quota for today."

Hubert smirked. "Am I not allowed to partake in casual conversation with a fellow Black Eagle?"

"When it's you, it's never casual. Go on, out with it, what do you want to tell me?"

Hubert's ever present smirk grew wider. "Very well, you wish to find out why we reacted so oddly when you mentioned sleepwalking, do you not? I wish to help you uncover that mystery."

"You? Doing a good deed? Impossible. There must be some catch."

Hubert ignored him. "I propose an experiment."

"An experiment?"

"Yes, and it's quite simple. Go to your library, read your books, but do not fall asleep. Instead, *pretend* you are asleep."

"That makes no sense. What would pretending to be asleep solve?"

"That is for you to find out. I'm sure you'll find it interesting though."

"If you won't tell me, then I won't do it."

"Oh, you will. I got you curious now."

"I hate you."

"I get that a lot. But I assure you, I have the best of intentions."

Linhardt brushed off the dirt from his uniform. This was going nowhere, the best thing to do would be to ignore him. "Good day, Hubert."

"Good day, Linhardt. Sweet dreams."

Yes. He truly wished to punch him.

* * *

This was more like it.

Linhardt was alone in the library, sitting in his favorite seat. In front of him, a collection of books he had been poring over. Nothing could bother him here. No mercenary, no students, no battles...just knowledge.

If only he could stay like this, forever.

But it was getting late. Around this time he would usually have fallen asleep by now. But Hubert's suggestion was keeping him awake. He had to solve this mystery. Tonight. Or it would plague him tomorrow. With that in mind, he laid his arms on the desk and laid his head on top of them, feigning sleep.

_Now I...just need to...not...fall asleep…_

As he was just about to drift off, he heard a noise.

Footsteps.

He almost opened his eyes and looked up, but no, that would ruin the experiment, and Linhardt hated ruining experiments. But he was confused. Nobody comes to the library this late at night. It was too close to curfew, and the librarian Tomas had long since turned in.

The footsteps were louder now. It sounded like it was approaching him.

Linhardt suddenly felt foolish. This must have been a trick by Hubert, he thought. It's his footsteps he's hearing, and soon he will be drenched in some sort of liquid, or maybe even manure…

No, that wasn't right. Hubert was the last person he expected to pull a prank like this. He may be secretive, and he may enjoy seeing people squirm, but a joker he was not.

The footsteps stopped in front of Linhardt. He could feel his heart beating against his chest.

And then, a different sound. He felt movement in front of him. Someone was picking up the books he took out. He then heard the footsteps move around the library, as if they were putting the books away.

Was it Tomas after all? Is that what Hubert wanted to show him? How punctual the librarian was?

Linhardt continued feigning sleep as he listened intently. Soon, the footsteps approached him again.

He almost squawked out loud when he felt arms lifting him.

_It was a trick! I'm being kidnapped! Hubert is assassinating me!"_

Yet for some reason even he couldn't understand, Linhardt continued feigning sleep. The mysterious arms lifted him off the chair and cradled him.

_Shouldn't a kidnapper fling you behind his back? Why cradle?_

The mysterious person was silent as they started moving while carrying Linhardt. Linhardt wanted to crack open an eye, but was too worried about his carrier spotting him. He felt a change in the person's steps.

_We're climbing down the stairs._ _Where is this person taking me? Won't somebody notice?_

No, he thought. He doubted anyone would. Perhaps a guard, but those could be easily avoided. And it was too close to the student's curfew to venture outside. The teachers were notorious for patrolling the monastery at night, and Byleth was no exception. Students that did try to sneak around always told stories about how Byleth somehow sniffed them out, despite their best attempts to hide. Linhardt remembered Claude telling him how he hid in the monasteries catacombs one night, and almost had a heart attack when he lit a torch only to find Byleth frowning in front of him.

Linhardt asked Claude why he would hide in the catacombs. Claude told him he hid every night, to see if Byleth could find him. The straight face when Claude told him that left Linhardt baffled.

_What am I doing remembering? Focus Linhardt! Solve the mystery!_

The person continued to carry him down the steps. Soon the footsteps evened. They must be on the ground floor now.

Then, cool air. They were outside.

_Should I open my eyes now? Put an end to this charade?_

He didn't need to. A voice rang out to his carrier, answering his question who the mysterious person was. And of course that voice belonged to Hubert.

"Good evening, Professor Eisner," Hubert said. One could practically taste the amusement in his voice.

"Good evening, Mister Vestra. You're up late tonight." Byleth replied, cradling Linhardt.

Linhardt's mind reeled.

_What?_

"Do not worry Professor, I have no intention of breaking curfew. I am just delivering a book I forgot to return to the library."

"I'm sure Tomas will be pleased."

"Quite so...and I see you are having to transport Mister Hevring… **again**." Hubert made sure to emphasize the last part.

_What?_

Hubert continued. "Ah, forgive me, Professor. I should lower my voice. Wouldn't want to wake him up." Byleth tilted his head in confusion. He wasn't quite sure why Hubert had such a satisfied smirk.

"No need, Mister Vestra. Mister Hevring appears to be a heavy sleeper. I once dropped him by accident and he remained asleep."

_What!?_

Even Hubert was somewhat shocked. "I-I see...but Professor, may I ask why you keep doing this? Why not simply wake him up, or, might I suggest, insist that he doesn't stay up so late? Perhaps even doing so will make him stay awake during lectures."

_Curse you, Hubert. Are you trying to shorten my precious library time!?_

Byleth was taking time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "I believe I punish him enough during class. I know how much he enjoys his time in the library. And I know... he has been having a hard time coping since the mission."

Byleth continued. "I...am not good at expressing myself. I tried earlier today, and I failed miserably. So if this gives him some comfort, no matter how small, then as his teacher I will support him."

Linhardt heard Byleth's tone become gentle. He never heard his teacher speak like this. "You all went through a harrowing experience, your first battle, your first kill. I know, because I went through the same thing."

"Oh? And may I ask, when was the first time you killed someone?"

"Twelve. I saw a bandit sneaking up on my father. He was too busy fighting to notice, and warning him would be too late, so I took matters into my own hands. I still remember the look of shock on the man's face as he stared down at me."

Linhardt's mind was swimming in circles.

Hubert gulped. "Ah...I see. Excuse me for prying. Perhaps I should let you continue, I'm sure it's not healthy for Linhardt to be sleeping out in this cold air."

Linhardt could hear Hubert walking away.

"Mister Vestra," Byleth said to Hubert's back.

Hubert turned around. "Yes, Professor?"

"Are you alright?"

"Me? Whatever would make you think I wasn't?"

"You also participated in the routing at Zanado Canyon."

"...You have no need to worry about me, Professor. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, but I will worry."

Linhardt could somehow sense Hubert was frowning. Perhaps this little prank of Hubert's backfired.

"...Do what you must. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Mister Vestra."

The man carrying him resumed walking.

The next few minutes were a blur to Linhardt, a testament to how confused his mind was. He could hear a door open, sheets being pulled back, and felt a familiar, soft padding on his backside. His head was propped on something fluffy.

He could hear footsteps walking away from him. Followed by a door closing and the jingle of keys locking a door.

Then, silence.

When Linhardt finally convinced himself to open his eyes, he found himself staring at his bedroom ceiling. He was in bed, under the sheets.

Just like how he always woke up in the morning, whenever he thought he sleepwalked.

Linhardt was a genius. An intellectual. If he puts his mind to it, there was nothing he couldn't solve. But at that moment, he could only think of one thing.

"What?"

* * *

During the next two days, Linhardt did not sleep during class. Nor did he fall asleep in the library. The others, minus Hubert, were confused by his sudden change of attitude. When Caspar and Ferdinand questioned him, he simply ignored them. He tried his best to avoid Hubert's smirking smile.

On the third day, early in the cool, brisk morning, the Black Eagles were gathered in front of the monastery's gate. They were preparing to head westward, towards Lord Lonato's rebellion.

"Gather up!" Catherine shouted to the assembled knights and students. "Finish preparations, we're moving out soon!"

To Linhardt's relief, the journey was a fair distance, so instead of marching, they would be riding towards their destination. Previously, they marched towards Zonado Canyon, and he was still nursing the blisters from back then.

He was excited to experiment if it was possible to sleep while horse riding.

He spotted Byleth up front talking with Catherine, finishing their final preparations. When he and Catherine parted, Byleth’s eyes made contact with Linhardt. He started walking towards him.

Linhardt tensed. He hasn't spoken to him since the tea party.

"Mister Hevring."

"Yes?"

"I will be relying on you during this mission, even more than last time."

"And why's that?"

"I expect this mission to be larger than last time, and you will not only be healing your fellow students, but the knights accompanying us as well. Can I count on you?"

It wasn't an order, it was a request.

"I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try my best."

Byleth nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. He turned around and began walking towards his horse when Linhardt finally mustered enough courage and stopped him.

"But what about me?"

Byleth turned around. "You?"

"Who will defend me while I heal? Better yet, who will heal me? I could easily die."

Byleth stared at him. Just like always, Linhardt had no way to tell what he was thinking, or feeling.

"You don't have to worry about that."

"You answered that as if it was a silly question. Why?"

Byleth continued staring at him. As Linhardt stared back, he finally realized then that Byleth's eyes *weren't* lifeless. His face wasn't completely void of emotion. He could see the determination in his eyes, as if his next words were simply a statement of fact.

"As long as I'm here, I won't let you die."

Byleth turned back around and started towards his horse.

"..." Linhardt wasn't quite sure what to say, or even think. Thankfully, he didn’t need to.

"Move out!" Catherine commanded. The knights rode out the gate, followed by the Black Eagles.

Linhardt hesitated.

Byleth, noticing his hesitation, stopped his horse at the gate entrance and looked back at his student.

"Coming, Mister Hevring?"

Linhardt closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them. He urged his horse forward.

"Coming, Professor."


End file.
